


Reflections

by hanamakiisbae



Series: Twitter Ficlets [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Love, Burnout - Freeform, Depressive Thoughts, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mirrors, Miya Osamu Needs a Hug, Miya Osamu-centric, Post-Time Skip, sad miya osamu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29246316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanamakiisbae/pseuds/hanamakiisbae
Summary: Miya Osamu looked like a happy man.He had everything he ever wanted. A successful branch, a nice amount of money in his bank account, a comfortable little apartment above the original Onigiri Miya establishment in Osaka. He kept in touch with his friends from Inarizaki, supported his dear brother as much as he could. Kept his body in tip-top shape, never forgetting his workout routine since he officially stopped playing volleyball.Miya Osamu had everything.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu
Series: Twitter Ficlets [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2093760
Comments: 8
Kudos: 168





	Reflections

Miya Osamu looked like a happy man.

He had everything he ever wanted. A successful branch, a nice amount of money in his bank account, a comfortable little apartment above the original Onigiri Miya establishment in Osaka. He kept in touch with his friends from Inarizaki, supported his dear brother as much as he could. Kept his body in tip-top shape, never forgetting his workout routine since he officially stopped playing volleyball.

Miya Osamu had everything.

It was dark already by the time the last customer left Onigiri Miya. As the doors closed behind their figure, Osamu could finally breathe. The smile he always wore disappeared, replaced by a firm line, his face empty of emotions. With mechanical movements Osamu did what he did everyday - clean, check everything in the back, in the front, make sure the fridge is still working, find the keys, lock up, turn the lights off.

Go upstairs, unlock the doors, close them again, drop the keys in the bowl, take off his shoes. Drop everything at the kitchen, open the laptop, check everything is okay with the incoming supply delivery tomorrow, check the emails, check the-

The cursor hovering over his spreadsheet blinked at Osamu. Osamu blinked back.

Slowly, he got up from his seat and moved to the bathroom.

The reflection in the mirror welcomed him, along with bags under his eyes and hollowness in his irises. His bangs were longer than last time he remembered. Maybe because he’s constantly hiding them under the cap at work.

Osamu stared at himself. Forced himself to smile, the fake smile he gave every customer at his shop. The expression fell, and once again, he stared. 

“Ya look like shit.” he told himself, staring deeply into his own soul in the mirror.

“So do ya.” the reflection responded, just as tired.

And so he stared and stared and _stared-_

“People say yer a happy man, Osamu.” 

“People are also blind, y’know, Osamu?”

“I know, Osamu.”

Finally, Osamu dropped his gaze to his hands, ending the conversation with himself. Atsumu would say he’s going crazy.

Osamu squeezed his hands into fists, feeling his nails digging into the skin.

Maybe he _was_ crazy.

It would explain why he had everything, yet felt like he had absolutely nothing.

Today, the pressure of this very thought settled heavily over his mind, like a gigantic rock pressing him into the ground with its weight.

Ignoring the spreadsheet on his laptop, still blinking, still waiting, Osamu went to the kitchen, trying to distract himself. The knife in his hand was a welcome feeling, and so was the sound of chopped vegetables and sizzle of cooked meat. 

But the act of cooking was a fleeting moment, not meant to last forever. Once the meal he prepared with as much affection as he could was eaten, the empty bowl in front of him, Osamu stared once again. Turned his head towards the entrance to the kitchen, the opened doors.

The glow from the screen of his laptop was visible even from there. 

Osamu felt like he was going to be sick.

With shaky movements, he took the phone from the pocket of his pants, briefly remembering he didn’t even change out of his work clothes. He ignored it in favor of dialing the number he remembered by heart.

“‘Samu? Do ya have any idea what time it is ya scrub-”

“Are ya happy?”

Atsumu’s words came to a stop at the interruption. A few seconds passed before he spoke once again.

“...is this ‘bout the happiness thing from high school?”

“Just answer the damn question.”

“Jeez, okay, no need to snap at me! I mean, the Jackals won against the Adlers again, so sure-”

“‘Tsumu.” Osamu interrupted him again.”Are ya _happy?”_

Silence welcomed them. Osamu could hear someone’s steps on Atsumu’s side of the call. The glow of Osamu’s laptop disappeared, the device switching to sleep mode.

“‘Samu.” Atsumu’s tone dropped significantly, suddenly so soft it made Osamu furious. “Is everythin’ alright?”

Osamu scoffed, moving the phone away from his ear. “Why did I even call ya-”

“Wait, ‘Samu-”

With a quick tap, Osamu ended the call. With a shallow breath, he returned to the other room, waking his laptop up.

With a tense roll of his shoulders, Osamu continued his routine, pretending everything was good.

Another day passed, Osamu continued smiling, sold food in company of his employees, closed the shop, dropped the keys, check the emails, opened the spreadsheet-

The cursor blinked at Osamu. Osamu, once again, blinked back.

Something wet slid down his cheek. Osamu lifted his hand, touching the skin where he felt it.

Was he crying? No, impossible. He never cried. He was too old for crying. 

With tense movements, he rubbed at his eyes, ignoring the burn, focusing on the spreadsheet in front of him. His eyes were just tired from the screen light.

Yeah, that was it. It would be better when he went to sleep.

At 4 am that night, Osamu decided it wouldn’t get better. 

He sat up in his bed, gazing at the digital clock standing on his shelf. Let out a deep sigh, stood up and went to the bathroom.

He stared at the mirror on the wall with a grimace.

“Why are ya like this?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” he answered. 

The urge to call his brother was strong, but Osamu didn’t move to get the phone. He would just get annoyed again and drop the call. 

His hollow eyes stared into their copy in front of him.

“Ya have everythin’, ya know.” he admitted, preening like a peacock in front of himself.

“I do.” he agreed, in exactly the same pose.

“Then why are ya like this?” he snapped, his body going lax, his voice full of desperation.

“I don’t know.” he whispered with wide eyes.

“Why aren’tcha happy?!” he almost yelled out in sudden outburst of anger, close to banging his fist on the sink.

Osamu dropped down on the toilet seat, staring at his reflection, watching its eyes red from exhaustion and tearing up, showing him how _pathetic_ he was.

“I don’t know.” 

Osamu cried out, covering his face with his hands, unable to look at it any longer.

“I don’t _know.”_

A few hours later, Atsumu barged into Onigiri Miya with some members of his team following along. While they made themselves comfortable at one of the bigger tables, Atsumu sat down right by the bar, glaring at his brother nastily.

 _“You_ are stayin’ right here.” Atsumu snapped when Osamu was ready to leave his post to get the orders. “Ya have two other people workin’ at this place.”

Osamu narrowed his eyes, annoyed, but ultimately stayed where he stood, the other worker already on the move towards the Jackals.

“What do ya want, scrub.” Osamu snapped while washing his hands, preparing himself for another order of tuna mayo onigiri Atsumu tended to get.

“What the hell was that two days ago?”

“What was what?”

“Don’t act stupid, ‘Samu. I’m talkin’ ‘bout the call.”

Osamu instantly went on a defence, getting the ingredients from the side to add to the rice ball. “It was nothin’.”

“Wha- bullshit! Ya sounded like someone died!”

“Yer over exaggerating.”

“And ya look like shit.”

“We have the same face, asshole.”

“At least I don’t have eyebags the size of plums.”

“Ya want this onigiri or not?!” Osamu snapped, temporarily lifting his gaze away from his hands to Atsumu. His anger deflated at the sight of his brother’s own puzzled expression, lacking the typical sneer or smug grin. 

It reminded Osamu of the reflection haunting him in the mirror in his bathroom.

“I didn’t order anythin’ ‘Samu.” Atsumu slowly mentioned. “And ya certainly didn’t look that bad last time I saw ya.”

Osamu added the last touches to the onigiri he was working on and put it gently on a plate, placing it in front of his twin. “It’s on the house. Eat before I change my mind.”

And Atsumu did, watching his brother like a hawk, while Osamu cleaned his working space in preparation for the next orders.

“I think I am happy.”

Osamu turned back to Atsumu, as he licked the grain of rice stuck on his thumb.

“I’m on the best volleyball team in Japan, played at the Olympics, got a hot boyfriend. Maybe we’ll get a dog in a month or so.”

Atsumu’s golden eyes focused on Osamu’s grey ones, the intensity behind them almost scorching.

“Are _you_ happy, ‘Samu?”

The two of them stared at each other, neither giving in.

“People say I am.”

Osamu continued watching his brother, as if he was talking with his reflection in the mirror again.

“They say I’m lucky I have a successful business at my age. That I still look good despite not playin’ anymore. That I must have a lot of money in my pocket if I own a branch in Tokyo and Amagasaki.”

“Yeah.” Atsumu agreed, propping his chin on his fist. “But I don’t care what people think and neither should ya.”

“I ain’t a sports star, ‘Tsumu. Good opinions are important for-”

“-for Onigiri Miya. Not for Miya Osamu.” Atsumu interrupted him immediately. “So answer me, ‘Samu. Are ya happy?”

Osamu looked at Atsumu’s face, almost identical to his own. The same sharp lines on their faces, same shape of eyes, same noses. He would have thought it was almost like looking into a mirror- 

But it wasn’t. 

Because the person he saw in the mirror wasn’t on the best volleyball team in Japan, didn’t play at the Olympics, didn’t have a boyfriend and didn’t plan on getting a dog. 

The person he saw in a mirror was lonely despite having friends, had a successful branch that made him want to puke when he saw its statistics on his laptop, couldn’t sleep at night and constantly forgot to cut his hair.

The person in his mirror was an empty shell of a boy he once was.

“I don’t know.”

They left it at that, Atsumu getting called to the table by Bokuto, Osamu busy with more customers and orders. Before the group of volleyball players left the building, Atsumu shot his brother one last look.

‘We aren’t finished talking.’ it said.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, Osamu’s routine disrupted by the conversation with his brother. The fake smiles were harder to keep up, his employees asked him if he was alright more than once, the thoughts in his head buzzing without a break. 

When the last customer left the building, Osamu cleaned, checked everything in the back, in the front, made sure the fridge was working, found the keys, locked up and turned the lights off.

He went upstairs, unlocked the doors, closed them again, dropped the keys in the bowl, took off his shoes, dropped everything in the kitchen, opened the laptop, checked if everything was alright with the supply delivery in a few days, checked the emails, checked the spreadsheet-

Smacked his hand on the table, hastily stood up, ran to the bathroom and closed the doors with a kick, glaring at the reflection in the mirror.

“I hate ya.” Osamu hissed out, pointing a trembling finger at the man in front of him.

“I hate ya too.” he responded just as furiously, wiping his leaking eyes, tears already falling down his face.

“Why couldn’t ya be like him?!” he screamed, dropping down on the toilet seat with a sob.

“Because he _is_ happy!” he wailed, not looking at the image in the mirror. “He has a successful career, a lovin’ boyfriend and will have a fuckin’ dog!”

His phone started ringing somewhere in the apartment. Osamu couldn’t find the strength to pick it up. He sat there, still in his work clothes, the miserable reflection in front of him his only company.

Until it wasn’t.

The sudden banging from the front doors burst his bubble of self pity, followed by angry yelling.

“I know yer there, ‘Samu! I can hear yer dumb ringtone!”

The toilet seat suddenly became the most comfortable thing Osamu ever sat on.

“If ya don’t open the door in 20 seconds, I’m pickin’ the lock! Ya know I suck at it, so ya probably won’t be able to fix it!”

Osamu groaned and hastily got up and left the bathroom, making his way to the genkan in rushed steps to avoid having to replace everything in his door because of _Atsumu_ of all people. Just as he heard the telltale sound of metal scratching against the keyhole, he unlocked the door and opened it, almost making his brother fall on his face.

“Touch my door _again_ and I’m bannin’ ya from every Onigiri Miya in Japan.”

“Jeez, chill out ‘Samu, I- What happened to ya?”

Ah, right. Osamu was crying in front of his mirror reflection about his brother’s happiness. He involuntarily scrunched his eyebrows in disgust at himself, avoiding Atsumu’s worried gaze. 

Atsumu went inside, hastily taking his shoes off and pulling Osamu into the kitchen. “‘Samu, what the _fuck_ is happenin’?”

“Was busy.” he shrugged, letting his brother do whatever he wanted. “Had a breakdown.”

“Ya had a _what.”_ Atsumu snapped, only now taking off his MSBY jacket and throwing it on the chair. “‘Samu, this is gettin’ ridiculous, seriously. Talk to me or somethin’.”

“I’m stupid.”

“...huh?”

Osamu sat on the other chair not occupied by Atsumu’s jacket, avoiding his twin’s expression.

“Yer happy.”

“For fucks sake.” Atsumu muttered before crouching in front of his twin, trying to catch his gaze. “What is up with ya and happiness lately, huh?”

“And I ain’t.”

That made Atsumu freeze, as Osamu finally lifted his eyes, filled with unshed tears. Osamu stared at the reflection in front of him, at the blonde hair, golden eyes and clean face, so similar yet so different from his own.

“I don’t think I’m happy, ‘Tsumu.”

“What do ya mean?” Atsumu asked, confused. “Ain’t it everything ya ever dreamed of havin’? Workin’ with food, havin’ yer own shop.”

“It is.” Osamu admitted, covering his eyes with his hands. Atsumu was too perfect in comparison to him - he couldn’t look at his brother anymore.

“And yet, I can’t find the same happiness it brought me all these years ago. It’s like it disappeared.”

“Ya know what it's called?” Atsumu asked, taking Osamu’s hands in his own, moving them away. “It’s called burnout.”

“I can’t be ‘burned out’, ‘Tsumu. I have a business to manage!” Osamu argued instantly.

“And let me remind ya once again, ya ain’t the only one workin’ at Onigiri Miya.” Atsumu squeezed Osamu’s hands in reassurement. “Ya don’t have to do everythin’ on yer own. If ya need, get more people to help ya out. It’s not like ya don’t have the money.”

Osamu allowed himself to slowly relax, the words more comforting than anything coming out of Atsumu’s mouth ever could be, he thought.

“When’s the last ya went on vacation? Ya can allow yourself two weeks off work, ya know. It’s like yer slowly becomin’ a workaholic.” Suddenly, Atsumu let out a gasp. “Or are ya one already?!”

“Jeez, shut up ‘Tsumu.” Osamu chuckled tiredly. “Bein’ worried doesn’t suit ya.”

“Well, excuse me for tryin’ to be a good brother!” Atsumu complained with a grin, letting go of his twin’s hands to slap his thighs in fake frustration. “Seriously though, ya need a break ‘Samu. Ya really don’t look good.”

“I know.” Osamu sighed. “Saw myself in a mirror already.”

“Great!” Atsumu stood up, walking towards Osamu’s laptop in the next room. With a quick click, he saved the spreadsheet and closed the device. “Go get yer phone, yer callin’ your employees. You’re gettin’ a break tomorrow.”

“Wha- ‘Tsumu, I can’t do this to them right now!”

“Alright.” Atsumu glared at his brother, pointing a finger right at him. “Next week then.”

Reluctantly, Osamu sighed, giving up on trying to argue with his brother. “Okay. I can do next week.”

Atsumu grinned happily, moving back to the kitchen. “Well, since I’m here, are we eatin’ dinner?”

“Why am I not surprised ya would leech off of me even when I’m feelin’ like shit, ya parasite.” Osamu grinned teasingly. 

“Hey, if ya sit around and do nothin’ yer just gonna get sadder! This is all for your well bein’!”

“Sure, sure.”

They spend the rest of the evening like this, together, as if they were back in high school again. 

This was a lot better than talking to his reflection in the mirror, Osamu thought.

As time has passed, Osamu - with the help of Atsumu - created a new routine. Got encouraged by his friends to find a therapist. Hired more people to help with the branch. Allowed himself to rest once in a while.

One evening, as the last customer left the shop, Osamu moved from his place by the bar. He cleaned, checked everything in the back, in the front, made sure the fridge was still working, found the keys, locked up and turned the lights off.

He went upstairs, unlocked the doors, closed them again, dropped the keys in the bowl, took off his shoes and went to his bedroom to change into something more comfortable. 

After that he went to the kitchen, made himself dinner and ate while watching a comedy on his laptop. When he was done, he washed the dishes, checked his emails, checked the spreadsheet and turned the laptop off. With a satisfied hum, he made his way into the bathroom.

A familiar face welcomed him from the mirror.

“Why hello there. It’s been a while.”

“Indeed, it has.”

Osamu took a shower, washed his teeth and finally focused on the mirror.

“Tell me, Osamu. Are ya happy?”

Osamu hummed, shaking excess water from his hands.

“No. Not yet.”

He lifted his eyes and smiled softly, sharing the expression with the man in front of him.

“But I’m gettin’ there.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to check more of my twitter content, you can catch me at @talkativewyvern
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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